A/N

So this is just a little Molly/Lestrade drabble that I picture happening a bit after Molly finds out about Jim being a psychopath and all. Comments would be much appreciated. If you don't like this ship, please don't hate. Personally I find it quite cute.

Lestrade fiddled with the band around his wedding finger. It was time, he knew it. He'd let things go too far. But who could blame him? You don't just throw away years of marriage without at least trying. And try he did. He came home earlier, paid her more attention. Even left little love notes around the house for her to find.

But she didn't stop. She "couldn't stop." she had told him, and that should have been the last straw. Having a wife that cheats on you should be bad enough, but one that knows how much it kills you and won't stop, well that right there should have clued Greg in that there was absolutely no fixing this marriage.

Pulling the ring off, he dropped it with a clink onto his desk and sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. It shouldn't be so difficult to let go of the piece of jewelry. They'd already been separated for some time, the finality of the divorce almost complete.

"Detective Inspector?" Startled, he looked up to see Anderson standing there, looking quite rodent-like Greg thought, immediately feeling guilty.

"Yes what is it?" He sighed, sitting up a bit in his chair.

Anderson swallowed. "Sir, it's just...late. And Donovan said you've had a long day. I think its safe to say we should all be heading home?"

Greg waved his hand dismissively. "'Course. You can head out. I have some paperwork to finish anyway." He waiting until Anderson disappeard before slumping back down on his desk

~()~

Molly tossed and turned. All she could see were his shining, cold eyes. All she could hear was his strange bubbling voice.

"Hiii. I'm Jim, from IT."

Nightmares plagued her for weeks.

Jim Moriarty.

She'd dated him. How could she not have seen it? How could she miss something so massive? He was a psychopath. A murderer. He killed people. Just forfun.

Suddenly it was as if all her fear and regret and anger flooded over her at once. She sat up in bed.

What if he was here right now? She knew things about him. Things that could probably lead the police his way. He needed to get rid of her. She was a liability.

It was only a matter of time before he-

Crash

Molly jolted, holding back a scream as she scrambled to untangle herself from her sheets and get out of bed to find something, anything to protect herself with. On her hunt for a weapon, she discovered that the crash had been a result of her cat knocking a cookie tin off of the counter. She froze, her bare feet cold from the tile flooring in the kitchen. Finally she let out a small sigh of relief, but she was still tense with fear. She wanted someone here with her. Maybe just so she didn't feel so utterly alone. She was a strong woman, and could take care of herself. She just wanted-

unplugging her mobile from the wall she opened up her contacts. She bit her lip, her thumb hovering over his name:Sherlock Holmes.

She closed her eyes. He wouldn't come. Probably wouldn't even answer if she called.

Oh, this was all his fault. She'd only went out with Jim as a stupid, half-baked plan to make Sherlock jealous, and look where that had gotten her? She discarded the idea of calling Sherlock scrolled up to the very beginning of her contacts.

DI Lestrade

Why he came to mind, she didn't really know. But suddenly she had an overwhelming desire to have him here. Part of her knew that she'd feel safe if he'd just give the place a once over.

Her mind made up, she pressed call.

~()~

The ringing of his mobile jolted him awake. He was half asleep, draped over his desk, the imprint of a pencil on his cheek.

He blinked bleary-eyed at his phone. Molly Hooper.

Without even wondering what she could be calling for at this hour, he answered the phone.

"Molly, hey. Is everything alright?"

Her story tumbled out in a flurry of exclamations and before he knew it, he was pulling on his coat and hailing a cab to her flat.

She opened the door on the first knock, standing there, her her hair in messy sleep-tossed waves, dressed in yoga pants and an over-sized sweatshirt.

Without even thinking, he pulled her into his arms. She stiffened at first, but then allowed herself to relax into him.

~()~

He smelled good. Fresh. Like woodsmoke and aftershave. After the night she's had, she found him so solid, so warm. So comforting.

He released her and held her at arms length, giving her a once over.

"I'm sorry I called you so late." She said, gently pulling her wrists from his hands. Greg's eyes widened.

"Oh no, no. Molly, think nothing of it. I'm so sorry I didn't come check on you earlier. The thought crossed my mind but I just thought it might. I don't know. Might be a bit awkward, ya know."

Molly smiled softly and shook her head.

"You go relax Molly. I'll put the kettle on. I think we could both use a nice cuppa right about now." He disappeared into the kitchen and she sat on the couch, curling her feet beneath her.

A few minutes later, he returned with two steaming mugs of tea.

"Here you go." He said, handing Molly hers.

"Careful, it's quite hot."

Molly wrapped her hands around her mug and took a sip. She thanked him for it and motioned for him to sit next to her on the couch.

She told him about the nightmares. The sleepless nights. The constant looking over her shoulder.

"I didn't know else to call. Didn't really think of anyone else I'd want here. I can take care of myself I just sort of. Need someone to hold onto. You know?" Her eyes raised slowly to his. Greg nodded. He knew what she meant. It was sort of how he'd felt with his wife. Like he was drowning. All he wanted was to save their marriage. For her to stop cheating on him and just love him. The way he loved her. The way he deserved to be loved.

Then, before he knew what he entirely why, he told Molly. Everything. About his wife, the cheating, the lies. The way Sherlock continued to point it out. "Oh, I know Sherlock really didn't mean any harm." He sighed. "He just points out things as he sees them, but it hurt to be embarrassed like that. To have everyone know that I weren't enough for my wife."

Molly's mouth dropped opened slightly.

"Greg!" She exclaimed, causing him to look up in surprise.

"It isn't you who isn't good enough. It's her. She doesn't deserved to be loved so wonderfully, so...so devoutly if she 's going to just cast it aside like that. Like it's nothing. Like you are an annoyance. A burden a-" She stopped. As she said the words she realized that maybe just maybe she was speaking to herself. She knew Sherlock would never really return her affections. Perhaps she should stop offering her love to someone who just didn't want it.

Lestrade moved a bit closer, placing his hand on Molly's knee gently.

"Thank you, Molls." He said quietly. "It's kind of you to...think so well of me."

Molly looked at him. Really looked at him, with his kind eyes and silver hair and thought that maybe, she'd found someone she could be with, as an equal. Someone who would love her back just as fiercely as she loved him.

She placed her hand over his and he smiled.

She liked the way he smiled. It brightened his face, and his eyes crinkled at the sides. It made you feel like maybe everything would be alright in this world after all.